


Unrequited Herald

by macabrewriter



Series: The Inquisitor and the Wolf [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabrewriter/pseuds/macabrewriter





	Unrequited Herald

It had not been the first time Gilraena had found herself the center of attention in a crowd of murmuring humans. The first time had resulted in the scar that adorned her left eye, the second marked her a pariah for a crime she had not committed. They seemed to rescind their previous accusations as she elbowed her way through the crowd, politely excusing herself in her haste to reach a safe destination. A few reacted to her touch as though she wielded a power beyond her mortal capacity. Normally, Gilraena would have pushed their peculiarity into the recesses of her mind. After all, what business was it of hers if humans had found a sign in every crevice of Thedas? However, a simple phrase caused her blood to run cold, and she had to will herself to continue at a steady pace.

"That's her. The Herald of Andraste."

_Fenedhis! What did I do now?_

She lowered her eyes to the ground in the vain hope that avoiding eye contact would cause the whispering to cease. Unfortunately, as with every encounter Gilraena ever had with humans, her hopes were vehemently dashed. The best solution was to seek out a place of solitude until another oddity captured their collective attention. The biting gust of wind thrashed her hair, momentarily hindering her vision. She groaned inwardly, tucked the fly-away pieces of hair behind her ears, and continued on her path. When she reached the tavern, she hesitated at the door before shaking her head and turning on her heels.

_Drunken shems who think I was sent by their God to save them all. Terrible idea._

She stopped when her eyes fell on the tall, pacing figure that loomed in the distance. Amber eyes narrowed slightly as realization dawned on her. Solas. That was his name. The past few days had been a blur, and Gilraena could barely piece together the fragments of her shattered memory. His was the first face that she had laid eyes upon when she regained consciousness, only to have him use his magic to force her back into unconsciousness. She wasn't angry with him for that now, as she had been told it was sorely needed for her recovery, but it caused her to become wary of his future actions. But for now, he was a welcome sight in a sea of shemlen nonsense.

If he had been surprised to see her approach, Solas gave no indication. "Ah, the chosen of Andraste. A blessed hero sent to save us all."

Gilraena's eyes narrowed. "Not you too. Am I riding in on a shining steed? Or perhaps a golden halla? That would be more appropriate, I think."

Amusement lurked in his eyes, and there was a hint of playfulness in his tone when he replied, "I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly, they're extinct." His features softened a bit as he continued though she could detect an air of authority in his voice. "Joke as you will, posturing is necessary."

Gilraena quirked an eyebrow. "Yes. You seem to know quite a bit about that."

Solas paused, and briefly mulled over her words before he strolled over to the steps she had previously ascended. Gilraena followed, an apology on the tip of her tongue. She had resolved to explain herself though her words caught in her throat as he began to speak. "I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten." He turned to face her, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Every great war has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

The statement had caught Gilraena off guard, and she found herself struggling for an answer that would sate his curiosity, if only for a moment. She had not set out to become a hero when she left for the Conclave, nor did she expect to be heralded as one for simply being in the right place at the right time. _Or the wrong place at the wrong time_ , she thought. Her cheeks reddened as Solas inclined his head. _Shit. Too much time has passed. He is going to think I'm an idiot. Start asking questions. He seems to love answering them._ "What do you mean, ruins and battlefields?"

"Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When I dream of such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen.”

Gilraena's eyes widened. "You...fall asleep...in the middle of ancient ruins? Isn't that dangerous?"

There was that hint of playfulness again. "I do set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live."

The corners of her lips lifted into a grin. "I've never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade. That's extraordinary, really."

A warm smile adorned his features. "Thank you. It's not a common field of study, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old dream? I would not trade it for anything."

Gilraena smiled. "Neither would I. It sounds like an incredible experience. I would like to learn more if you are willing."

Solas nodded. "I will stay, then. At least until the Breach has been closed."

"Was that in doubt?"

His face hardened, and there was an edge in his voice that Gilraena was certain could penetrate steel. "I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine Mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution."

"You came here to help, Solas. I won't let them use that against you."

"How would you stop them?"

The words fell from her lips without hesitation. "However I had to."

Solas tilted his head, a look of surprise crossing his face. "Thank you." He seemed to relax then, his shoulders dropping slightly as he continued. "For now, let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach."

Gilraena sighed. "Yes. I am sure the brigade is dying to share their opinions on the best course of action. Besides the Mark, I don't understand why I have to be involved at all."

He smiled. "They seek guidance in a world that is swiftly going to ruin. You have physically walked into the Fade and still draw breath. You have managed to change your status from wanted criminal to a religious icon in a matter of days. Perhaps they sense a gift for diplomacy and leadership that you have yet to realize yourself."

She blinked, taken aback. "I...thank you. I should probably go. May we continue this conversation later?"

"I will be here, should you require my attention."

Gilraena answered him with a curt nod, then swiftly descended the steps before the redness spread to the tips of her ears. She fervently hoped her quick departure did not betray the thoughts that ricocheted through her mind as the distance between them widened. Deshanna had showered her with similar compliments, so why did her stomach flutter when a strange elf she had barely known a week echoed her Keeper's sentiments? Perhaps the reason was because it was not expected of him. Deshanna was never one to use flowery language in the hopes of gaining her favor, but Gilraena was certain her intentions were to simply lift the spirits of the member to whom she would pass the torch. Solas seemed more genuine, and there was something about the serenity in his tone that sent involuntary shivers down her spine.

It couldn't hurt to take him up on his invitation, could it?


End file.
